The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything
by Moczo
Summary: Aziraphale teaches Crowley a valuable lesson: just because you're an angel doesn't mean you have to be a fool.


The prompt was "Into the Storm," requested by Foxxfire5 for Aziraphale. Once again, my mind went somewhere very strange. Enjoy!

* * *

Crowley's typical sauntering swagger could be written away as being a symptom of being too full of himself, but in this case it was more likely to be a result of the fact that he was walking on a rather unsteady dock and was probably a bit tipsy. But still, it amused Aziraphale to watch the demon veer back and forth while theoretically walking in a straight line. "And you are showing me what, exactly?" the angel asked, bemused.

He turned and looked at him, and Aziraphale nearly laughed when he saw that somewhere between the tavern and here Crowley had put an eye-patch on (1). "Are you blind? Take a look at her!" He gestured behind him toward the sea and nearly fell over.

Aziraphale looked up and sighed. "You have a ship now. Is this going to be like the poor gelding that you never used, or…?"

Crowley scoffed. "I decided to show this one to you because I'm going to embark on a life of crime in the seven seas. You know, rape and pillage and the whole bit. Well, vicariously; the crew will be doing the work," he admitted, as he considered himself far above doing such things _himself_. "I figure I'll get a promotion without having to do too much work. So consider this my goodbye for a couple of decades."

Aziraphale's brow furrowed as he regarded the sleek black vessel. "You're resorting to piracy? That's a little… cheap of you, dear."

The demon grinned at that. "_Exactly_. I'll just find myself an easy-to-manipulate crew, make sure to threaten them every once in a while, and I'm good to go! Terror and hatred spread to civilization, and I get a nice nap with only periodic interruptions."

Aziraphale gently brushed a piece of invisible dust off his doublet as he nibbled on the inside of his lower lip. "Of course, you do know I'm obligated to thwart you?" He couldn't believe the words that had just left his lips, but there they were.

"Ngk?" asked Crowley.

Aziraphale looked up and smiled. "Can your new ship hold my books?"

* * *

(1) This was before that became the fashion. In this time period Crowley kept one serpentine eye perfectly visible while covering the other one, making those he encountered wonder what was wrong with the covered one as compared to a _snake eye._ It daunted a good share of people.

* * *

"Absolutely not!" Aziraphale insisted.

"But I need a crew!"

"You can't very well hire these poor people without paying them, Crowley! And how are you intending on feeding them?"

"By stealing the food and money from _other people,"_ Crowley reiterated slowly, having to hold on to the edge of the ship to keep standing. "That's the _whole point."_

Aziraphale tsked and looked over his list of their resources. "At this moment we can't afford to pay anyone, nor do we have the supplies to feed them."

"I can miracle food," Crowley suggested weakly, and with a wave of his hand a grand buffet appeared on deck.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the food disappeared. "Now that, my dear, is cheating. If you're going to be a pirate, you need to do it correctly."

"Right – by getting a crew of scallywags and ne'er-do-wells to do the work for me. And I can't get the crew unless you let me get them before we get the money to pay them!"

The angel bit on his lower lip. "Well, it is quite the conundrum, isn't it? I suppose… yes, I'll just make up some contracts that promise pay once we successfully come into some money. That way they'll know exactly what they're getting into."

Crowley, defeated, agreed.

* * *

Aziraphale shook his head and looked the first recruit up and down. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Yarr, I be Dark John Blackstroker! I've been sailin' the seas since me father murdered me mother! Don' ask what happened to me father if yer weak of heart!" The enormous bearded man let out a deep laugh.

Aziraphale's mouth was twisted into a scowl. "I see. Well, you shan't be joining this ship. Good day."

Crowley mouth dropped. "He's perfect! What are you doing?" he hissed.

"'Blackstroker' sounds lewd," Aziraphale sniffed. "Let's try to be respectable about this, shall we?"

Crowley had no good response to that.

Aziraphale moved down the line to the next man, who was shorter than Dark John but far wider. "And you are?"

"Yarr, I be Bloody Jack Redbeard. Me beard's red from the blood of my foes!" this one chortled. "I be the right pirate for the job! Me last cap'n threw me overboard out of jealousy!"

Aziraphale shook his head. "I'm sorry dear, but if you can't keep your beard clean, then I'm afraid we have no further point of discussion. Hygiene is incredibly important, you know, even if it seems like none of you understand exactly what that entails. Good day."

"But I'm a natural blond," Bloody Jack bemoaned. "No one fears Blondbeard!"

"_Good day."_

* * *

At the end of said good day, Aziraphale had interviewed fifty veteran pirates and found them all lacking.

Crowley supposed this is what he got for being honest. He should have just run off and let Aziraphale wonder where he went. Demonic karma and all that.

"Well, it's not like you and I can't be a perfectly acceptable crew ourselves," Aziraphale suggested brightly. "In fact – why, we should become pirates of pirates! How exciting! We'll gain quite the reputation that way. Two noble rogues, sailing the seas and becoming the bane of pirates everywhere! You'll be lauded for causing mayhem, and I'll be commended for helping curb piracy."

Crowley, who was drunk, just glared at him.

"First we shall need pirate names," Aziraphale chirped, "and a name for our ship. This is so thrilling! I'm so glad you invited me along."

Crowley gave him a rude gesture, but Aziraphale paid him no mind.

* * *

The _Babylonian Judgement_ (2) as captained by Ezra Silverblade and the Black Serpent became known throughout the seven seas as… well…

"Yarr, we be surrenderin' to ye," said the dread pirate Pinkish-Redbeard, his ship raising the white flag. "Mercy fer my crew, though I be suspectin' y' won' give us any."

The Black Serpent figured this was his time to shine, and he readied his cutlass.

"Well, you know, you brought this fate on yourself," Ezra Silverblade said curtly. "Of course times are hard all around, but that certainly doesn't give you the right to go about hurting other people. Cr – The Black Serpent, please go on their ship and take their profits. We shall be giving it to the poor."

The Black Serpent slunk onto their ship, silently vowing that not a single doubloon was going anywhere but his personal bank account.

"'But for the fearful, and unbelieving, and abominable, and murderers, and fornicators, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, their part _shall be_ in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone; which is the second death,'" Ezra Silverblade read to the pirates. "You see, you qualify as abominable, murderers, fornicators and liars. So essentially, unless you change your lives around, you'll burn for eternity. That doesn't sound very enjoyable, does it?"

He had their undivided attention.

* * *

(2) Crowley: The what?  
Aziraphale: I think it's fetching. And anyone learned will know what it refers to.  
Crowley: Yes, because _pirates read the Bible._  
Aziraphale: They will.  
Crowley: Huh?  
Aziraphale: ^_^

* * *

Rumours circulated that the crew members of the dread _Babylonian Judgement _were really vicious hell-beasts come to collect the souls involved in the Caribbean pirate scourge. They were only partly right, but given that the two members of said crew were arguing while amidst a massive sea storm, as opposed to dying, the mistake was forgivable.

"We're stranded!" Normally suave, the Black Serpent was nearing the end of his hypothetical rope. "Just let me-"

"No," Ezra Silverblade replied patiently, "humans manage to sail through such storms just fine, and so shall we."

"Aziraphale – don't give me that look I am _not_ calling you that stupid name! – if it weren't for my miracles on this entire journey, our corporations would be the home of tiny little fish who ate our innards!"

Ezra Silverblade sniffed, which looked markedly absurd given he was soaked from head to toe and only standing straight because he himself was using liberal amounts of miracles and simply not admitting to it. "Regardless, the ship is holding up well-"

"Because of me!"

"-and so we don't need you to get us out of this storm. I'm sure it will pass within a day or two. Now then, let's go below deck and I'll make you a spot of tea. That'll cheer you up."

* * *

The sea storm was in fact a hurricane, and when it finally passed them two weeks later, the Black Serpent had finally had enough.

"I quit!" Crowley snapped.

Yes, they were rich after hours of Crowley and Aziraphale haggling the relocation of their profits. Yes, Crowley had gotten quite a few commendations for the reputation of this little operation_. _But yet, he felt like he had failed so, so horribly.

"But why? Crowley, I thought we were having a nice time," Aziraphale protested.

"Because we're _not pirates!_ I haven't a clue what we are, but we've never ordered anyone to walk the plank, or hoist the mainstays, neither of us have parrots, we've never ordered anyone to rape or pillage or _anything, because we don't even have a crew!"_

Aziraphale pouted. "All right, I suppose I have quite a few years of texts to get caught up on," he said, sounding disappointed.

But on the inside he was beaming. Who said thwarting was boring?


End file.
